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I will admit from the get-go that I am a great fan of Rikki Ducornet's writing. She is, in fact, my favorite living author, with the possible exception of Linda Hogan. "The Stain" is the first installment of her "Elemental Tetralogy," which also includes "Entering Fire," "The Fountains of Neptune" and "The Jade Cabinet." These books do not have to be read in order as they are not bound by narrator or character; instead, Ducornet reaches for the essence of each of the four elements in a signature, subversive style that combines surrealism, intense eroticism, and even a little playful perversion.

Reading with some amusement her detractors' comments here, I agree that her writing is not as obvious or formally structured as most. She is certainly not a paint-by-numbers writer and doesn't employ or enjoy writing by formula. I've read the entire oeuvre of her work in English (I do not know French, so have not read that body of work), and I can therefore say with conviction that Ducornet has no patience with the normal, average, commonplace or predictable. Rather, she is drawn to the fringes, the extraordinary experience—the corpse of a fox inhabited by bees, the girl who ate a clock.

It is, however, a false and misleading sentiment to claim that "The Stain" (or any of her novels) lack structure. The structures she follows are dreamlike (let's remember that she's a surrealist, after all) rather than mechanical, and intuitive as opposed to predetermined. That's why her works are unfailingly fresh and vivid. She takes you to places within the human psyche that are seldom visited, open worlds vivid with potential and promise.

As to her eroticism, and let me be clear about this, she is not remotely a pornographer. Nor, however, is she bound by conventions that regard sexuality as somehow unholy. Sexuality is the means by which the living world renews itself: it is earthy, it has odors, sweat, blood and cum, and it's the vitality that lurks within all living things, what Dylan Thomas referred to as "the force that through the green fuse drives the flower." Not knowing her mind, I rather suspect that leaving the erotic out of her book about Earth would have struck her as dishonest and worse, disingenuous. Ducornet is fearless; she doesn't pander, she doesn't bite her nails about whether or not her words will please the Harper Valley PTA.

"The Stain" is not the best of the tetralogy—that accolade belongs to "The Fountains of Neptune" (book 3)—but is still absolutely deserving of 5 stars. "The Fountains of Neptune" is simply so unlike anything I've ever read before that it transcends any ranking. Still, "The Stain" stands boldly and proudly at the brilliant beginning of Ducornet's transition from poet to novelist. And she is the reason I'm writing my own first novel right now.

Can an entire book be one long sex act? This one can. You cannot read too many sentences without running into words such as "intimate", "pulsing", "dangling", "seductive". Not that I'm saying these are the only words used. They're just examples. Almost every page of this book is sexually charged but ironically there is very little explicit description. And it is through this partial concealment that Ducornet produces one of the most consistently erotic books I have ever read. And disturbing. It's how the Marquis de Sade would've written if he had had any talent. The book is set in the French village of La Folie during the 1880's. But the book feels as though it were happening during the Dark Ages. It centers on Charlotte, a young girl developing into womanhood who longs to be a saint. The problem is that she has been cursed by the Devil for being conceived out of wedlock by the lust of her parents. Her birth is described as though a demon were being born, not a human. She has a rabbit shaped birthmark on her face. Comically, rabbits receive bad press here for being associated with lust and sexual drive and so on. Well, actually they deserve that reputation. So Charlotte is shunned. All the religious figures that appear in this book are portrayed as disgusting and hypocritical. The Exorcist is actually a servant of Satan who tries to sow his oats anytime anywhere with anything. The mother superior secretly does acts that I cannot even describe on this site. The convent that Charlotte goes to thinking that she will be able to serve God is revealed as an abode of devil worship, sadism, and lust. Everything we think of as good in the world is evil here. There are some redeeming characters in the book. Emile, Charlotte's uncle, is a simple loving man who loves to garden and teaches her about the ways of nature. And also Pere Poupin, a hunter, is the man who ultimately leads her to her destiny. It seems as though the more distant from civilization, the more civilized people are in this book. It takes a while to get used to the world that Ducornet portrays but it's an experience you should have. A lot of it is tongue in cheek and it becomes disappointingly more conventional as it reaches the end. This book is not for the squeamish, so if you are uptight about religion or sex, stay away from it.

THE STAIN is not a novel for everyone, but it is an unforgettable delight for those who relish gorgeous wordplay. Every sentence bristles with earthy genius. I read this book about once a year, just to savor the prose. Ducornet has written more sophisticated books, perhaps, structurally speaking, but none which give me so much pure pleasure. THE STAIN, to me, is a classic.

I am a college student who had to read this book for a contemporary American literature class. I found myself pondering the following after I finished the book:
1) This isn't American literature. It has nothing to do with America. Why are we reading this?
2) Is Rikki Ducornet this highly regarded as an author? A Danielle Steele novel has more structure than this!
Seriously, the plot goes nowhere, the characters never develop, the symbolism is horrible, and whenever something exciting promises to happen, it never does. The last few chapters--which in any good novel, begin escalation toward a climax--are as ordinary as the ones which precede them. Whatever climax comes is contrived and tired, and...well, downright stupid.
I wish I could have at least one positive thing to say, but I don't. Some people say that this book is supposed to be a Gothic parody. I've seen better parodies on Hee-Haw. Ducornet just doesn't make the cut.
Read this novel if you wish, but unless you're a die hard fan of incoherence, it'll be a waste of your time.

I really wanted to enjoy this book, but I got too annoyed with the disjointed writing to even finish it.